Draco and the Muggle Novels
by Narocia
Summary: Draco gets caught reading horror novels by muggles and is sent to a camp for dark wizards who read that kind of stuff.
1. The Devious Dawning

"Draco!" My father's voice was seething with anger as I walked down the stairs."What have I told you about reading books by muggle authors?!"

'I'm dead as a doornail,' I thought."Not to read them," I said.The words were forged and dry.

"How many times have I caught you reading one?" 

"Three.Please don't send me to that awful death eater camp, please, I'll die of . . . something that I haven't figured out yet," I said.My father had threatened to send me to a camp where all the children of death eaters who read books by muggle authors went.I heard it was horrible and I believe it to this very day.

"That's exactly where you're going on Sunday.I suggest you get packing now, so you can have the rest of the time to have fun," he said.I nodded, still in shock that I was going to that camp.

As I walked back up the stairs I muttered, "I must have worse luck than the Baudelaire orpahans."

"WHAT WAS THAT?" 

"Nothing, nothing at all."I didn't want him knowing that I'd read a single muggle book without any blood or gore, such as the Lemony Snicket books!If I ever had a halo it would probably have killed me before I turned five due to being so crooked it would serve as a cross between a noose and a guilloteen.

The door to my room had never seemed so solem as it did right then.I knew better than to keep my whole colletion at home, where Daddy Dearest could find them.Sometimes I wonder if he's the male equivalent of Joan Crawford, though I dare not say it to his face.

I had to wonder what would happen to my collection if I left all the books by Stephen King and Dean Koontz at my house.I knew my mother secretly read them and would take good care of them if I were to give them to her, but would she find a place good enough to hide them?I could take them to camp, but don't they search you to see if you have any?I hate paradoxes!

I had to cover my hand with my mouth to prevent myself from screaming when I realized that he hadn't found a Stephen King or Dean Koontz, it was an Edgar Allan Poe that my father found.Edgar Allan Poe was my favorite book!Now I have to watch it smolder in the fireplace!I guess I can blame it on my cursed foot, the one that's stepped on needles and has shifted skin . . . need I go on?

As night approached I found an ice pick on the counter and gave it an evil eye because in my mind I could just see it flying through the air and stabbing me in the throat.I'll admit it here and now, every time I see an ice pick I don't look away because a slasher could sneak up behind me and kill me with it.

After dinner was the time of the book burning.My mother put her hand on my shoulder in sympathy, "I'll see what I can do to get you a new copy," she whispered."I'll hold all your other books for you, so that your Daddy Dearest doesn't find them while you're away."

"Thanks," I whispered back.

Author's Note: Can't you just see Draco with a Stephen King or Dean Koontz novel?Maybe I'm crazier than I thought, but who cares (I don't).Anyone out there read the Lemony Snicket books?I recently started The Wide Window.I've already read The Bad Beginning and The Reptile Room, which I enjoyed.


	2. Taking Evil Effect (the camp)

The actual bus was anything but interesting, though the ride was not. Barry, who sat beside me, had it worse than I did. His brother and he had been caught with books and going to an amusement park so he had to come to the camp every summer until he was eighteen. These rollercoasters sound really interesting, maybe when I'm eighteen I'll sneak into a muggle theme park and ride one. 

"A hundred bottles of beer on the wall, a hundred bottles of beer, take one down, pass it around, ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall," I found myself singing with the rest of the "children of the death eaters" choir. The conductor was a girl who looked to be sixteen or seventeen.

We managed to finish that song and started to sing some rather silly tunes. We even sang one song that everyone told me was by Monty Python. "Eric the Half a Bee," was that song. It was a blast, but the punishment for being so loud wasn't (the coach, who I have decided to call Tyrant, couldn't get us in trouble for singing muggle songs because we weren't at the camp yet).

"I'm Orville, and I will watch as you do the laundry of everyone else," Tyrant, who I will now call O.J. (from Firestarter by Stephen King), said.

Yuck, I hate laundry almost as much as I hate paradoxes! I don't want to even look at the underwear of others, led alone wash it. I couldn't help but stare when Josphine, one of Barry's friends, asked something that one might not want to.

"Um . . . what happens if we barf all over the clothes? Are we allowed to see the nurse, or do we continue to wash?" 

"You go to the nurse and have to do the laundry again tomorrow," O.J said. At this I just about protested, but shut my mouth because that would be nagging and O.J. would kill me for nagging. 

The laundry time was long and horrendous. A guy named Britan started to dance and I thought he might have been having a seizure. I've never seen anyone dance that weird. I wasn't concentrating on what he was singing, so I don't know the words, nor do I care what they are.

As I left I felt lethargic and dead tired. I began to feel less tired as I began to talk with the boys in the cabin. Britan was there, and I don't know why, but he had a stero ("they only nag at you if you have a book," he said). He again began to make me question if he was having a seizure.

I slowly fell asleep, though I only got to sleep for four hours. When I awoke it was no wonder that I half fell over.

Our breakfast was not very nutritious, or delicious. Nachos with burnt cheese are very gross, not anything good at all. 

"Anyone want to lend a shoulder?" I asked, I was that tired.

"No," everyone said.

"To the lake!" O.J. said after my announcement. 

It turned out he meant to the changing rooms by the lake, where I had to change into swimming trunks. The swimming trunks were a garish shade of green that made my eyes hurt. 

"Did our parents pick these out?" Britan asked, fear in his voice.

"Probably," Barry replied. 

"That sucks," said a teenager with fluorescent purple hair and a nose ring.

I decided to wear a t-shirt over my trunks because I wasn't about ready to have anyone see me in something so skimpy.

"Nice hair," I said to Mr. Purple Hair.

"Thanks," replied he.

"I was being sarcastic," said I.

He grabbed a hold of the collar of my shirt. "Don't you dare insult me," he said.

Having read these kind of books I decided to scream my lungs out, but before I could do that I found myself to have fallen flat on my butt. 

"Your breath stinks," he said.

I guess it is irony that for once I think my stinky breath came in handy. I've always hated it, but at that time I didn't.

The swimming lessons were chaotic because to the say the least the group is not exactly saintly. We had to learn how to hold our breath under water and everyone who already knew how to do that went about dancing like ballerinas. It was quite a sight, until I found out how badly sunburned I was. 

Worse yet, we had to do more outside including learning how to give someone a manicure, that was torture! The girls didn't enjoy it because most of them already knew it all and I didn't because I stink at art! I don't know why we did that outside, nor do I truly care. I had to paint my toenails bright pink.

That night I had trouble getting to sleep because of my sunburns. Britan had brought Aloe Vera in case such things would happen. I had to put about two pounds on my shoulders because I don't tan; I burn. The skin on my shoulders felt tight and only added to the trouble. 

Author's Note: I got the idea for Britan's dancing from a classmate named Brett, who dances in the same way. I had fun with this one. Have you ever tasted burnt nacho cheese? It goes down your throat like the contents of your nose (mucus and boogers). A lot of the ideas for this came from personal experience or that of friends, including the burning and the asking if someone would lend a shoulder. I don't burn very easily, but my friend, Maggie does, though I know all about not being able to sleep do to painful sunburns. I guess I'll tell you the story. My cousin and I had been at the local theme park for a few hours when we went to the Water Park across from it. It was then that we noticed our skin was red and began to feel what the sun had caused. My cousin managed to sleep well, but it was quite a different story for me. I kept putting Aloe Vera on my shoulders and face so that the skin felt tight. Then finally three or four days later we both began to peel. I have some Greek blood in me, so I don't peel as bad as he does. He peeled often and in huge masses, but I peeled little and rarely. I have to tell you guys that I'm going to see Lemony Snicket on Friday and am rather excited about it!


	3. The crossing over chapter

The next day might have been worse. I awoke to find that Mr. Purple Hair had moved into the same cabin as Barry, Britan, and me. Yes that grammar is correct because you wouldn't say Mr. Purple Hair had moved into the same room as I, would you? I wouldn't, anyway.

He was snoring loudly on an air mattress. A few evil thoughts went across my mind as I thought what things I could do in order to wake him up. I could inflate and deflate the mattress repeatedly, sit on his feet, or scream in his ear. All of which would be very fun! I knew it was best not to do any of those because he'd kill me if I did, and I'm too young to die!

I looked at him and then turned my gaze to Barry. The bared a resemblance to each other that was scary. _Are they brothers?_ I thought. He did say that his brother had also gotten sent to this camp, didn't he? Oh well, maybe he won't try to kill me because his brother would be a witness and he wouldn't want to kill his brother. 

"Draco, it's time to wake up! I think I'm beginning to detest this camp more than last year because last year we didn't have to do other peoples' laundry. Not to mention the fact that I'm having more trouble getting to sleep and we have to wake up at five o'clock A.M!"

"The Count has an eye on his ankle and lives in a horrible place. He wants all your money, he's never at all funny, he wants to remove your face!" Britan sang, doing what I have decided to call "the seizure dance."

"You read A Series Of Unfortunate Events?" I asked.

"Oh yes, they're horrible . . . horribly wonderful that is," He replied.

Mr. Purple Hair turned in his sleep. 

"Should we wake him up?" I asked.

"Jason, yes. I wanna sit on his feet," said Barry.

"Well, if I can scream in his ear," I said.

"I'll inflate and deflate the mattress repeatedly!" Britan announced.

I don't know if you've ever slept on an air mattress, but once at a muggle raid I did. The worst part was that I was rudely awoken much in the fashion we were going to wake Jason or Mr. Purple Hair, only not at the same time. I actually awoke with the constant inflating and deflating of the mattress, but pretended to be asleep. Then, my ever-so hyper cousin sat on my feet and when that didn't work he screamed in my eardrum. I eventually gave up trying to fake sleeping because it was useless.

Once we walked into the room in which we eat our meals I felt ready to groan and carry on like a banshee, though I did not. This time for breakfast they gave us coleslaw that tasted good at first, but then just made want to barf. I'm beginning to notice a pattern here, all the food stinks. One time they even went as far as to give pizza that was so greasy if you were to put a napkin over a piece the napkin would be soaked with it. I'm now wondering if I should just stop eating this food, several times I've vomited because of it.

Once breakfast was finished we were ordered to go to a skating where we would learn how to skate. I don't know about you, but with such things it's a wonder I don't grow feathers and a beak and peck at the ground. First we were told not to try to walk, it only slows you down. 

"What you are trying to create is something that the muggles are foolish enough to call friction," O.J said.

"And you do so like this," remarked Jason. With that he sped off around the ring. Once he had completed one circle he began to skate backwards.

He was good, too! I have to think that had only added to his time at this camp because I heard that Barry and him also have to stay for winter vacation. 

"Come on, it's not hard!" Jason yelled to us. "All you have to do is stick your neck out and give it a shot!"

With that everyone else began to skate. I managed not to walk because I had watched and heard enough to know that that wasn't what you were supposed to do. On the first turn I fell flat on my butt, though. I got back up and tried again. This time I made it half way around the turn and then fell. I watched Britan. When he turned he leaned to one side a lot more than I did because I'm stiff as a board. 

I tried again, this time leaning. I leaned too far and fell. This time I had made up my mind that if I couldn't turn with another three tries I was sending a letter to Daddy Dearest. The next time I actually managed, do I get a gold star or what? Please don't answer that.

Then I tried to skate backwards and managed not to move for a full five minutes because I didn't how. Then Barry taught me and I was like a deer that is just learning to walk, I trembled like you wouldn't believe. 

Once that bit of chaos was through with, to the lake! There we were taught how to swim laps, this time everyone who already knew splashed around like dolphins. "I'm Flipper!" Josephine called out at one point.

I'll admit that I took some pleasure in it, but very little. Swimming laps isn't fun, I prefer to play a game that I have heard is called "Marco Polo." 

Author's note: how many people here think I like Jason? Find out in the next part! I will inform you of this: Draco will encounter a game of truth or dare!


	4. Computers, Laundry Duty, and Truth or Da...

This was going to be an interesting day. Today we were to learn about computers and the cyber world. 

I looked down at my food, tuna salad that looked like cat puke with pickles in it. I wasn't eating that. 

"Oh lord, is this poison?!" Britan sputtered once he took his first bite.

"I wouldn't be surprised," I said.

"WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE THIS FOOD IS POISON!" Mr. Purple Hair or Jason screamed to all who dared listen.

"Jason Ivory! One more statement like that—"

"And I'll be decapitated, that's too bad," he replied. I couldn't help but snigger.

"Unfortunately, we do not have a guillotine or meschetti (sp?) on grounds. You'll just have to do laundry and have," he paused for dramatic effect, "homework."

Everyone gasped, they were allowed to do that? The camp was bad enough already; we didn't need to have to do that cursed thing that they call homework.

Once inside the room where they held all the computers we were taught how to turn one on and off. Then we were told what all the programs would do. After that lecture we were turned loose with the Internet. Okay, so only I was turned loose because I wasn't going to the two sites that we were allowed to go to.

I went to [www.lemonysnicket.com][1], where I listened to the Count Olaf song (each computer had a set of headphones next to them). I loved the song. It said all you needed to know about the Count. 

"Draco, is that one of the two sites you're allowed to be on?" O.J asked. I had a smart aleck comeback in mind, but didn't use it because then I would _really_ have to fear ice picks.

"No, sir," I said.

"Then why are you on it?" he asked.

"Because I'm a fan of the author," my voice was a hoarse whisper.

"Draco, I'm afraid I think you just landed here for winter vacation, unless you can straighten up. You have laundry tonight, with Jason and Barry Ivory."

I had laundry on the worst night to have such a duty, Friday! Normally I love Fridays, but this one was going to be quite a pain in the butt. 

"What are the two sites we are allowed to be on?" I asked.

"You are allowed to log onto the following two URLs: www.darkwizardswithmugglenovelstutorial.com or [www.theessenceofmugglenovels.com.][2]" Both the websites were boring ramblings about how it was so sad to see the child of a death eater with a muggle novel. I also signed the guestbook of both the sites telling them just how stupid they were and how good certain muggle novels are. I hope they get a kick out of that one considering the fact that I signed it "The Telltale Malfoy."

The laundry was again long and horrendous. I met a girl named Heather, who was from a different group of us and had to do the laundry of each group once to serve as punishment for sneaking out to a theme park while she was here.

"Um . . . I have to watch over another group. If you don't do the laundry I will force-feed burnt nacho cheese to all four of you!" That was enough to get us to work . . . very quickly.

We finished within an hour, but then we sat down for a game of truth or dare. I heard three terms that I didn't know about that game: chicken, electric chair (where the person picks for you), spice (a dare that you have to do).

"Draco," said Mr. Purple Hair, who was going first. "Truth, Dare, Chicken, Electric Chair or Spice?"

"I'll take truth," I replied.

"Okay, um . . ." Heather leaned up against his ear, as if she knew what to ask. "I'll think of something, so don't try to help me."

"Why don't you just ask him something stupid because it appears as if you can't think of anything else," said Barry.

"Okay, who do you have a crush on at this camp?" 

"I've got a halo, I cannot tell!" I said.

"Oh, that means we get to decide!" Heather shouted. 

From what I am told, at this point in the game I turned modern-day Michael Jackson pale, meaning that it seemed as if all the pigment drained out of my skin. You could also say that I looked like death with silver-blond hair. 

"Okay, in that case I shall tell the truth: no one, zip, zero, nada . . ." I rambled all the synonyms for nothing.

"That's nice," Heather said.

"Now it's your turn to ask someone," Barry informed me.

"Okay, umm . . ." I thought for a moment, "for the sake of revenge, Jason."

"Well, considering the fact that no one can ever trust me to tell the truth, I can't choose that, so I'll have to go with dare."

"Umm . . ." For some reason I thought about Jason's hair dye and was immediately inspired, "I dare you to wash your hair with dirt and water."

"Okay . . ." he said in a tone that said (very obviously) he was freaked out. Maybe I should take up that muggle tradition and dress up as Norman Bates (not when he's about ready to murder someone) for Halloween.

"Who's going to write the note telling him that we're finished?" Barry asked.

A sadistic grin spread across my face. "I will!" I said

__

"Orville-

"We finished the laundry and have since fled to do something known as having "fun." Fun is what the Merriam-Webster's Dictionary calls "something that causes amusement." It is also synonymous with "entertainment." 

Draco, Barry, Jason, Heather

PS: THIS CAMP SUCKS!" I read aloud.

"So, is that good?" I asked.

"Yes!" All three said at once.

With that we left towards the lake. Once there Jason lowered himself to the water level and shuddered. "IT'S TOO FREAKING COLD!!" he shouted.

"Okay, then how about instead of dirt you have to use Heather's shampoo, which doesn't appear to work very well," I said.

"You got a deal," he said. 

With that Heather took off. I saw that Jason had found a book and was looking at it. 

"What's the book about?" I asked.

"What muggles call cars," he said.

Quickly Barry, Jason, and I found ourselves enjoying reading about these so-called "cars." My favorite had to be the Shelby, small, quick, and everything that I could ever hope for in a broom. 

Then Heather just had to blow our bubble by returning. Though the result of her returning was something that I would laugh about for a long while to come. It had something to do with the fact that Jason seemed really chicken about this and the fact that when he was finished the reason to why his hair was brown was questionable. 

"Heather, why don't you ask someone?" Jason asked.

"Sure," she replied. "Barry truth, dare, you know the deal?"

"How about dare," he said.

"I dare you to dance like Michael Jackson."

"Wait . . . that just isn't right."

"Would you prefer to dance like an early Elvis?"

Barry paused for a minute. "In that case Michael Jackson rocks!" With that he started doing this weird wave walking-backwards thing . . . until he ran into a tree. 

I noticed that my elbow itched, so I reached up a hand to scratch it and felt something smoother and harder than my skin. I looked down and saw it was a tick. "EWW!!" I said, removing it from my skin and proceeding to stomp on it. "YOU STUPID LOW-DOWN BLOODSUCKER! WHY DON'T YOU JUST SPLIT IN TWO NOW?!" Oddly enough after I requested it to split in two it did. 

The game continued, but I don't want to describe it; let's just say it was very hectic and I fell into the lake. I know, I'm graceful as a turtle. 

Once it was time to fall asleep I burst out into laughter at the game of truth or dare and continued to do so until dawn. I managed to wake Britan and keep Barry and Jason up in the process. When I finally stopped everyone raised their hands to the sky like a priest or a religious freak and said, "he finally shut up!"

Author's Note: Yes, I do like Jason. I think he's cool! Britan's also fun to write about, though I still haven't decided what his last name should be. All the sites besides [www.lemonysnicket.com][1], which belongs to Lemony Snicket mentioned do not really exist (to my knowledge). The Shelby belongs to someone in the car-making business, which does not include me. Oh, and Michael Jackson belongs to himself, but (I'll let you in on a secret) I wouldn't say he was mine if you paid me. He scares me worse than any horror novel.

   [1]: http://www.lemonysnicket.com/
   [2]: http://www.theessenceofmugglenovels.com./



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